


Massage

by IsabellCousland



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alistair Theme Game, F/M, Massage, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsabellCousland/pseuds/IsabellCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wanted to start putting my writing out there in 2016. So I thought the best way to bring in the New Year was with the Alistair Theme Game from tumblr. Pretty much there will be a theme each month and January's theme was Massage. I put the link below.<br/>http://alistair-theme-game.tumblr.com/post/135560463414/the-alistair-theme-game-what-is-it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Massage

Alistair looked across the campfire at her. The camp was quiet except for Leliana plucking the strings of her lute on the ground. The Warden sat on a stump almost completely still. She still had her armor on and was sitting noticeably uncomfortable. Her mabari sat at her feet with his head and a paw in her lap. Wynne, with the help of Morrigan, had already healed their wounds best she could. He wondered if she needed something else. 

"Are you alright?" He asked. She didn't say anything or move an inch. Her Mabari nudged her a bit by sitting up and licking her face, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Warden?"

"Yeah? I'm sorry you said something Alistair."

"I asked if you were alright?" He repeated.

"Yeah, I—I'll be fine."

"Wynne did mend that wound? Do you need me to wake her to look at it again?"

She smiled sadly at him scratching her mabari's head. "No Alistair, I'm ok."

"Maybe you should get some sleep."

"Hmm? Oh, no I'm just… You're right. I'm going to bed," she said while getting up. She went towards their tent, the war dog slowly trotting bedside her.

"You know," Zevran said sitting down beside him. It's quite obvious our Warden is tense. And why not? Not a moment's rest when you are trying to stop a Blight and mad man." He said before leaning in close. "Perhaps she needs help to relax. Why don't you offer her a massage?"

Alistair lean back away from the assassin and glared at him. "I'm not going to do that," he replied furrowing his brow.

Zevran clicked his tongue and smirked. "Why not? You and our fearless leader are after all, intimate. You two are joined at the hips—frequently from the sounds that leak through your tent at night—"

"Maker!" A blush darken his face, neck and ear, as he ran a hand over his face.

"—and if you wish I can give you this blend of special oils," he pulled a vial out and held it out gently and the campfire light made it shimmer. "I guarantee she will love. It warms as it's rubbed into the skin. Surely, it will relax her. But as you seem slightly embarrassed… I can offer for you."

He continued to talk for a bit but the senior warden wasn't listening. Alistair stared at it before looking at the Warden's silhouetted figure from inside the tent taking off her armor before it disappeared. She had out the small lantern the kept inside. Snuffing the fire and the shadow of her undressing.

"Zevran," Alistair said with serious look.

"Yes my reddened friend?" the crow said with a sly grin.

"Give me the oil."

"With pleasure," he said handing it over and patting his back.


End file.
